The Price of Capital
by ThisIsTheGreatestUsername
Summary: Seventy years after the war with Japan, much has changed within the Empire as the continent of Falmart is currently undergoing rapid industrialization due to the knowledge of Earth. Seeking a better life than one in a remote village, Ned and Ellie, though only children, are drawn towards the city of Italica where all kinds of wonders of technology and transformation are happening.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Since the beginning of their time, men and women have always dreamt of a world without suffering, without injustice and, above all, without work. The Greek poet Hesiod wrote of a 'golden age' when the 'fruitful earth yielded its abundant harvest of its own accord', while Telecleides fantasized of 'torrents flowing with wine…and fishes coming to houses and baking themselves before serving themselves on tables'. Other famed examples included the mystical, harmonious valley, Shangri-la, or the medieval land of Cockaigne, populated by roast pigs wandering around with carving knives in their backs.

These folk utopias, however gaudy and naïve, voice the perennial human longing for idleness and comfort. But it is a sad fact that we all live in a world that does not conform to any of these ideals. By the sweat of our brow we are cursed to earn our bread until to the dust we return, the utopias which we so much desire being a land beyond our grasp, floating above the empirical world; as its Greek name implies, _ou-topia, _'no-place'.

Nevertheless, the inaccessibility of the dream has not stopped philosophers through out the ages from conceiving hypothetical regimes from which civilization may aim towards in the ethos of 'thriving for perfection but settling for excellence'. Plato's Republic theorized the natures of establishments culminating in city-states ruled by philosopher-kings. Slightly more on the line of where our current history of events seems to be heading, the father of empiricism himself, Francis Bacon, conjectured a world where advance technology allows for utopian standards of living; although, perhaps the idea of science overcoming death completely may be too far of a stretch.

Ultimately, what all this rambling is meant to say is that human society has but one goal: to seek a good life for its members (though not necessarily _all _of its members as some people have interpreted).

Thus, it is with this goal in mind whence capitalism was born. Derived as a mean of maximizing productivity, it gave governance the quickest route to achieving great prosperity. Through the pains of capital accumulation and technical progress, the human ideal world may yet be realized!

But what shall this civic utopia or good life look like? That is the question that has yet to be conclusively and universally answered. Karl Marx had thought communism as the ultimate end answer, but its failings and flaws were plain to see in practice. The great economist John Maynard Keynes prophesized in 1930 that the standard of life in progressive countries would be eight times higher a hundred years later. That much is true, however, it seems that the paradise of having all our material needs satisfied with little work has yet to manifest.

The reasons for this lack of manifestation are many, but most point to the underestimation of the depths of human avarice, where we seek to accumulate more and more for the sake of having more rather than for any betterment of life. Aside from productivity and ambition, capitalism also cultivates greed. As such, the transitional stage, which capitalism was meant to be, continues on strong in this day and age, in pursuit of eternal economic growth, with the good life not a single mile closer in sight.

So, let us now frame this narrative in a different format, in the art of storytelling which for the most part of early human history has been how ideas and values has been passed down. Let us delve into the lives of two young children, one thirteen and another ten years of age, whose past I shan't mention much, as they embark on this journey of finding a better life. Let us watch with fear as their innocence meets the titans of industry. Let us invest in their growth and experience and perhaps draw comparisons with our own.

And finally let us pray—and hope—that when all is done and to the dust we return, we find ourselves in the utopia we so dream of.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The road had turned muddy after several days of hard rain and it could not have been long past noon when the old wagon's wheel got stuck.

With a curse, the driver—a weathered man between the age of forty to seventy called Seth—cracked his riding crop—once, twice, thrice. The poor mule strained with all its might, the muscles of its hinds bulging, but it was all for naught and the wagon sat back down in the mud, barely an inch further than before.

Seeing the futility, Seth let loose another curse, then called out, "Everyone off. Everythin' off. Sam ain't got the legs for y'all."

Ned slung his satchel over his shoulder, then reached over to help his sister Ellie with hers. Typical of boys on the cusps of young adulthood, he had a cherubic, oval face, though marred with dust and grime. His dirt-blond hair was cut cropped unevenly and his fringe had a foul habit of poking his eyes so he would slick them back with water when he had some and spit when he had none. The brown tunic and dark trousers he wore were home-spun and threadbare in places, all but tearing at the seams, but they were his only travelling clothes and he had only one more other set of clothing packed.

He hopped off the open cart, his straw sandals drenching in mud, and looked back.

"Toss me 'em sacks, Ellie," he said.

The young girl was small, even for her age, but her cheeks, though shrunken, were rosy with health, and her eyes seemed to always sparkle with some innate curiosity. The family resemblance to her brother mostly resided in her dirt-blonde hair, which she kept rolled up under a shabby cap, and she wore male tunic and trousers; an attire picked out by her brother for safer travel. She stooped down to pick up some loose squash and tucked them back into the bag which they had fallen out from.

"Nice and easy. Nice and easy," said Ned, waiting to catch the sacks of produce.

Ellie threw down the first, a feat that looked like lifting her own weight. Ned caught it easily and set it down on a drier patch of ground. Seth came over to help and single-handedly did as much as the two of them did together.

After half an hour, Ned was feeling the heat slightly, but the job was done, and he and Ellie rested among the piled sacks, while Seth went back to the driver's seat. He slicked back his hair with the sweat of his forehead, admiring the view of an endless meadow of rolling pastures that seemed to stretch on for miles.

"Don't get too comfortable," he said to Ellie. "Still gotta' load 'em back."

Ellie raised her nose at him. "I know that. Don't need you to tell me."

"You always say you don't need nothin', but we both know you can't even tie your sandals without someone holdin' your hands."

A frustrated huff came out from Ellie. "You're insufferable!"

"In-suffa-what?" Ned asked, looking confused. He knew his sister was showing off what new word she had learnt from reading, but it had been a long time since he was jealous of never getting to learn how to as well.

"Insufferable. It means that you're really, really annoying," she answered.

"You were born in-suffa-ra-bal," he retorted.

"Oh, good one," said Ellie, rolling her eyes.

"Oi boy! Quit your yappin' and give the cart a lil' push, will ya?" called Seth. It seemed that even without the extra weight, Sam the mule was still having trouble getting the wagon unstuck.

Ned shot to his feet, dusted his hands, and hurried to the back of the cart. At the count of three, he threw his entire weight behind the cart, arms straining under the piece of leverage he held onto. However, the wagon refused to bulge. Seth told Ellie to take the reins, while he came around back to help push.

"Put your back into it, boy," growled Seth. "All the muscles of the family must hav' gone to ya when your sister got all the brains." The smirk the old farmer had took any malice out of his words.

Ned grinned. "She got brains alright, but she ain't got no sense."

"Shut up and push," shouted Ellie from the front.

Once again at the count of three they heaved, and once again the wagon simply did not move. A brief inspection saw that the cart's wheel was now more than a quarter submerged in mud.

Seth cursed. "If only I had one of 'em cars. We would've been out of here in a cinch," he said.

"Cars?" asked Ned.

"Big metal wagons pulled by some strong magic. Heard they got the power of a hundred horses." Seth chuckled at the last bit as though sceptical.

"We'll see them in Italica, won't we?" questioned Ellie, climbing over to the back of the cart.

Seth nodded. "I'm sure y'two would see plenty of 'em there." He paused; his expression suddenly downcast. "Are y'all sure ya don't wanna come back to the farm with me? Me and the missus could sure use a few pairs of extra hands."

Ned looked to Ellie, then shook his head. "Sorry, you've already done so much for us, but we're bound for the city."

"Thank you so much for the offer though," said Ellie, wringing her hands nervously. "We don't mean to sound ungrateful at all. We are, but—"

Seth waved them off with a laugh. "Nah, don't worry bout' it. I get it. Don't need me to hold y'all back. The city's where the future's at. All that in-dust-tra-lie-sa-sion."

Ellie smiled knowing that Seth understood. "Industrialization," she corrected.

"Lookie here, ya already the smartest person on this side of the country. Wait till you actually start learnin' in 'em school they hav' there."

"Sounds like she'll be even more insuffer-able," said Ned. The sneer his sister gave him brought a smirk to his face.

If Seth was confused by the unfamiliar word, he did not show it. "Anyway, we better find some wood to stick under this here wheel. Still got half a day's journey to Anilin. Wouldn't want y'all to miss your train." As he walked off the road into the tall grass to begin his search, he exclaimed, "Italica! That great place! Where a man can find ways of livin' any way he imagines. To rise above his station and make his wealth, only by the sweat of his brow and the wits of his head. Italica!"

_That's the dream, ain't it, _thought Ned, smiling.

* * *

It was nearly dusk when the wagon turned onto a new road, and the rolling meadows gave way to ranges of rocky mountains, whose peaks were like dark guardians under the growing evening shadow. They were joined by a dozen other wagons and as they were overtaken (for the ancient Sam couldn't keep up), Ned saw that each wagon was squeezed full of people underneath the tarps, passing wineskins among each other, their excited voices carrying through the air loudly. There were scores of travellers on foot following from behind as well—men, women, children—carrying nothing but large, lumpy sacks on their backs.

"All bound for Italica, I reckon," mused Seth. He was chewing on a stalk of wheat.

"There's so many," said Ellie, eyes wide. She was sat next to Seth on the passenger seat.

"Hah! Ya think y'two are the only ones lookin' for a better life?"

"I suppose we aren't," Ellie replied, nodding.

"Mark my words, one day everyone'll be livin' in cities, workin', sleepin', eatin'. Except for old farmers like me, of course."

"What's that?" Ned asked, pointing ahead. The road had turned east and about a mile away, someone seemed to have placed an impossibly long metallic ladder across the landscape. Like a dark, reticulated snake, it wove and meandered around the bends of the small hills.

"That there is the tracks for the train," answered Seth. "S'ppose to run from Anilin all the way to Italica in 'bout a quarter of a day's time."

Ned stared at the tracks, wondering how long it would take to make the same journey on foot. A week? Longer?

"Can y'all imagine sixty years ago there ain't none of this?" Seth looked at Ellie and Ned in turn. "Of course not, y'all too young."

"The world is changing fast," Seth continued when they did not disagree. "Faster than what I'd like it to. Though it's hella' amazin' what things they build and come up with, a lot of times I feel like I don't get what's goin' on. Everythin' movin' like a whirl and I wonder where's my place in all this madness. Everyday seems like a new town like Anilin popping up from the ground outta' nowhere. Most folks round our parts ain't seen it yet, but I have since I gotta' travel to sell my produce." He patted a sack that sat between him and Ned. "But I reckon it not long 'fore it all catches up with the rest of us. Change is coming, whether we like it or not."

The deeply melancholic tone of the old farmer caused a reflective silence to settle among them. Ned leaned back against one stuffed sack, propping his feet up on another. He did not quite understand what Seth was saying, but then again, he was only thirteen; he doesn't know anything—or, at least that's what most people tell him. Just work hard and take care of yourself, they said. So, work hard and take care of himself he will. For Ellie's sake.

They continued on the rest of the journey under the setting sun, the orange ball the one bright countenance between the mountain peaks. Before long, they saw a large plume of smoke rising from the midpoint of the face of the mountain. Even from this far out, the air smelt acrid and of sulphur.

"There's the coal mine. Anilin ain't too far off now," said Seth.

Sure enough, the dirt road gave way to cobbles and ran alongside the great railway tracks. Ned and Ellie tried tracing the track to its origins, but it seemed to run endlessly to the end of the world. _To Italica, _Ned thought.

There were children dressed in cotton shirts, shorts, and high socks skipping on the steel plates, laughing whenever one of them tripped and fell, paying no mind to the procession of travellers on the road that led to town.

Anilin was a thriving mining settlement that had sprung not more than a decade ago according to Seth and seemed to have grown bigger each year ever since. The encroachment of civilization brought forth buildings and streets to replace the wild and natural which had been here previously. Lamps the likes of which Ned had not seen shone brilliantly like orbs of captured sunlight mounted on metal poles, lighting the fronts of square, blocky houses. There was the familiar smell of beer common anywhere, but also of garbage and tar. Horses' hooves clopping and people shouting, and yet over the din Ned could somehow hear music, amplified louder than any instruments he knew could project. There was almost nothing like the village they had grown up in.

Ellie had her jaw wide-open, and Seth closed it for her, obviously amused while telling her that her throat would go dry.

The line of wagons rolled along the main street—choked full of other horses and pedestrians—and Seth hailed a group of locals lounging nearby.

"How's the market?" he asked.

The men were covered head to toe in soot and dust, their reddened eyes standing out in stark contrast that they seemed like fiends. "Windin' down. People 'bout shuttin' shops and headin' home," one of them replied.

"Ah, that's too bad. Bad roads slowed us down real good today."

"If you're lookin' to offload, head up to the general store anyway." The man pointed west. "The manager will buy you for a fair price. He got one of 'em new freeee-zers, keeps food nice and long."

"Alright, might just do that. Thanks." Seth shook the reins, but then saw that the men gathered were blocking the way and uninspired to move. He said to Ned with an obviously forced smile, "Give these good folks some fine butter squash, will ya boy?"

Ned hurriedly did as he was told. He felt the griminess of their hands as they took the knobby squashes he held out and noticed the predator-like stares they were giving both him and Ellie. Instinctively, he grabbed onto a loose plank in the wagon, all the while staring down the man closest to his sister.

"Hu-ah!" Seth snapped the reins and old Sam leapt to life as if he had no burdens to draw. The men bumbled out of the cart's way and only lingered a second longer before eventually going on their way, chomping their teeth down on the gifted squash.

Seth took a turn west following the road until it opened out into a small square. Here, men and women carried paper bags full of groceries, heading back to their homes. Somewhere in the distance a child was crying shrill and high. They rode around till they found an open corner by the general store and pulled the wagon to a stop.

Seth went inside to negotiate with the manager and when he came out, gave a nod to Ned, who then hopped off and began helping unload with Ellie.

Half an hour later, when all was done, Ned grabbed his sister and together they bowed to the old farmer.

"I think we oughta' go now," he said. "Thank you so much for your help. We couldn't have made it here without you."

Ellie stifled a sniffle. "T-Thank you!" she stammered. "I-I'll write to you. I don't know how it'll get to you, but I'll find a way!"

Ned elbowed her gently. "Did you forget that not all of us can read like you?" he admonished.

Seth pulled her into a massive hug. "Nah, nah, don't you worry 'bout that. I hear they got here somethin' called a post off-fis. If ya can find a way to send it there, I'll pick it up whenever I make my rounds here again. The village priest can read it out for me. So, ya do just that."

At that Ellie burst into tears in his arms, and the old farmer patted her back like a father would. "There, there, no tears, come on. Ya meant for big things now. They don't wanna' see you cry in 'em big city there."

"I'll miss you," she said between sobs. "I'll miss everyone."

He held her before him as he lowered himself so that they met eye-to-eye. "I'll miss ya too lil' girl. Y'll do us proud, won't ya?"

She nodded, sniffing, wiping her eyes with her small hands.

"Good," he said, and then waited for several moments after she stopped crying before letting her go.

As Seth turned towards him, Ned felt his emotions well up within him, causing his chest to ache, but he forced the sudden heaviness building up behind his eyes away with sheer effort of will. "I ain't crying," he said out loud by accident.

The farmer laughed. "Ya better not, Ned." Then, without warning, crushed Ned with a giant bearhug. A tear or two escaped Ned's eyelids. "Ya take real good care of your sister, ya hear me? Ya a man now."

"Always have been," replied Ned, keeping his voice clear.

"I s'ppose so," Seth said, then lowered his voice to a whisper, "Guard yourself good, Ned. The city is a big place to lose yourself. Be wary of folly."

"I will. Thank you," Ned whispered back.

Seth released him, then held out a silver coin. "Don't spend it all in one place," he said.

"No, no, we can't. We already got enough," Ned protested.

"To hell with that."

The coin was pressed into his hand before he knew it. He stared at it blankly, unsure of what to say.

The old farmer didn't seem to think that anything else needed to be said, for he made a shooing gesture. "Better get goin', y'two. I'll be here till the mornin' 'fore headin' back. If ya change your mind about comin' back with me, just come look for me." With that, he climbed back onto the driver's seat.

They waved him goodbye as they watched him ride away, Ellie tearing up even more at the sight. He disappeared past the corner of a building, leaving them among the thinning homegoing crowd. In the distance, the sun had fully set and the only lights on the streets were that of those strange, powerful lamps.

Ned reached out and held onto Ellie's hand, gently pulling her towards the road that would take them back to the main street. "Come on," he said softly. "We oughta' go."

Ellie sniffled, then nodded.

They made their way towards the train station. While Anilin was bigger than the village they had grown up in, it was not so big that you could find yourself lost. Past the dull, soulless facade of houses, all built identically and seemed to have been designed to cram as many as they could into a single lane. There were no other children outside at this time any longer, so they drew curious looks from bystanders, but for the most part was left alone as they walked along.

The stench of urine and sweat and coal smoke and tar grew as they approached the station, which was a squat, grey building by the railway tracks. There was a crowd of muck-covered and travel-wearied men and women with canvas sacks sitting by the entrance, all eagerly watching the tracks as though they expect something to appear any time soon.

Ned grabbed a tighter hold on Ellie and pushed his way through the crowded door of the building. It was lit brightly inside by hanging ceiling lamps and though it was summer it was strangely ventilated and cool. Moving through a short corridor into another room, they found themselves in a long queue leading up to an annoyed-looking clerk sitting behind a glass windowed counter. The room stank of manure and sweat.

"Next!" the clerk snapped.

Two men jostled to get in front of each other.

"Follow the bloody queue, you country fools!" the clerk shouted. "We do things differently here than whatever backwater village you come from. You first." He pointed to one of the two at random.

Ned felt his sleeves being tucked and he turned to look at Ellie and was silently pleased to see that she had composed herself considerably since Seth left.

"I don't like this man, Ned" she said.

"Don't worry 'bout it. I'll do the talkin'," he replied.

"I wish Seth was still with us."

He paused, then said, "Aye, me too."

After some time, it eventually came to their turn and they stepped up wordlessly to the counter. The man gave them a glance, then looked down on a piece of paper on his desk, then after a few moments looked back up at them again. A visibly annoyed frown crossed his face.

"Oi! Who left their bloody kids?" he yelled across the room. "Come back and get them!"

Ned felt Ellie squeeze his hand and he squeezed back reassuringly. "We're here on our own, sir," he said. "We wanna' take the train to Italica."

"Oh, do you?" the clerk asked with a raised eyebrow, tapping his pencil impatiently against his desk. "What's two kids gonna' do in Italica?"

"My sister's goin' to school there. She got this letter of reco-men-day-sion from our village priest."

At that, the man looked at Ellie, gazing long enough to examine her. "School is it?" he asked.

She gulped. "I'll be the first in our village," she said.

"That's hardly a surprise." The clerk returned his attention back to Ned. "And you? School too?"

Ned shook his head. "No not me, sir. Don't have the smarts for it. I'll be workin'."

The clerk opened his mouth, seemingly to comment on that, but then decided instead to shrug as if it were none of his business. "The next train's already full, but you two are small enough that I reckon it won't be much trouble to squeeze in."

"Won't be trouble at all, sir."

"Good, that'll be two denarii, and I'll hear no haggling. This isn't some village bazaar."

Ned thanked the man and paid the fare, which amounted to half the money he'd brought from home, with the exception of the silver soldo Seth had given him.

"Train's picking up coal from the mine and won't be back 'fore some time, so you better not miss it. Next!"

Outside, they found themselves a stack of crates to sit by whilst they waited, the lamp post above their heads like a spotlight. The crowd of other waiting travellers had grown mostly quiet and they huddled amongst themselves as a strong summer breeze descended on them, sending building signs creaking and tiled roofs rattling. To an outside eye they were all a sorry lot, tired, beaten, hungry, and desperate. But in their hearts, they held a bright hope which kept their spirits high. They were all waiting for the train.

Ellie clutched on tightly to the two small pieces of paper which the clerk had gave them.

"To Italica. One Way," she read the ticket.

Ned pulled out half a loaf of bread from his satchel and tore it into two equal chunks. He spread a dab of butter across them and handed one to his sister. It was hard and stale, but the butter was sweet, and it made do for dinner. After they've eaten, Ellie laid her head on his shoulder, yawned in such a way that made him feel tired as well, and then drifted off to sleep.

_Ah, how much easier would life be without you, _Ned thought as he watched her chest rise and fall in cycles, though he knew very well it wouldn't be a life he wanted. He turned his attention to the moonless sky, counting out the stars.

* * *

It was long past midnight when a high shrill sounded through out the station. Men, women, children jolt awake from the sudden noise and looked around confusedly, murmuring and buzzing. Ned pulled Ellie closer in reflex and hunted for the source of this dreadful sound. _What in the world is happenin'? _

He saw the clerk who sold them the tickets come out from the station building, yelling, "Train's arriving! Train's arriving! Get ready to board!"

At his voice, everyone went into motion, jumping to their feet, slinging sacks over their shoulders, dusting off their hats and clothes, the excitement in the air palpable.

"Oi, you! Get off the bloody tracks! Not 'less you wanna' be run over!" The clerk ran over and gave a teenage boy a clout to the head and dragged him off the tracks.

"Ned, Ned, let's go!" said Ellie, pulling him by the hand.

"No, wait," Ned replied, unmoving.

His sister gave him a curious look. "Why not? The train's coming!"

"Just watch," he said.

In the elation and commotion of it all, the crowd unsure of what to do scrambled and jostled around, shoving each other in attempts to be towards the front. Angers flared, heated words exchanged, and punches flew, all the while everyone kept pushing forward closer and closer towards the tracks.

"Stand back, you stupid fools!" shouted the clerk at the front, beating people back a step. "You wait! You _bloody _wait!"

Ned gave his _I-told-you-so _look to Ellie, to which she just rolled her eyes.

A loud horn blared from down the tracks and when Ned looked, he saw bright flashing lights rising out of the darkness like an angel's hands reaching out towards him. Like a regular-shaped snake, a series of attached massive, metal boxes slid into the station, sparks flying as its wheels screeched against the tracks. Ned had seen drawings of trains before, but they paled in comparison to the real thing. The sheer size—nearly twice the height of the average man—and weight of the metal alone must have made it impossible to move. At the head of this snake, a large plume of smoke rose out of its nose. The crowd on the platform visibly flinched back as the smell of burning coal polluted the air.

"Magic," someone in the crowd said in wonderment.

"It's not magic, you dumb cows! It's a combustion-engine powered by coal," snapped the clerk. "Now hurry up and board!"

All along the platform, the crowd began filing into the open doorways of the carriages, where a man in navy-blue uniform with large buttons and conductor cap took their tickets. Ned and Ellie joined the queue.

The tall, moustached conductor regarded them with a raised eye as Ned handed their tickets, then punched a hole in each of the paper with some small device before returning them.

"Go on in," he said. "It'll be tight inside."

The bottom of the carriage doorway was as tall as Ned's waist and there were no steps, so he had to propel himself up using both hands. He helped Ellie up after. Together, they shuffled down the narrow space into a coach smelling of alcohol and sickness, and lighted dimly by a lone ceiling lamp. There were no seats, and people sat wherever they found space, touching knees in most cases. It was near boiling inside, and the only ventilation was provided by the thin slits that supposedly passed off as windows.

A man probably slightly older than thirty and an obviously pregnant woman scooched up as they saw Ned and Ellie approach.

"O'er here," the woman said, patting the empty space next to her. "It ain't much but we don't mind a lil' squeeze."

The brother and sister sat as they were told, sinking down to their haunches.

"Apple?" the man asked, holding out a green apple. "Go on, take it."

Perhaps too tired to refuse, Ned took it. "Thank you," he said.

"Where're your parents?" the woman asked.

Neither of them answered.

Understanding seemed to dawn on the couple. "Bound for Italica as well, eh?" the man asked.

"Yes," said Ellie.

"A fresh start is what we're looking for. And not just for us," the woman said, rubbing her expanded belly.

"Miritta delivers," Ned invoked the Goddess of Fertility.

"Miritta delivers," the couple both repeated.

The coach was packed completely full now, and outside the voice of the clerk could be heard, "All aboard!" A loud emission of steam sounded, and the train rattled and shook and then crawled its way out of the station before picking up speed and zooming away from Anilin.

Excited chatters and conversation continued but after several miles the ceaseless rattling and rocking of the train made several passengers dizzy, their complexion turning green in the face. With nowhere else to go, some even puked inside the coach, fouling the air and causing others to go sick too.

The lone lamp in the coach was then shut off, leaving them all in pitch blackness. Terrified whispered echoed everywhere, and more than once was the name of Emroy invoked.

Unable to see anything, Ned closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but between the moaning of sick passengers and the nonstop swing of the ride, it was a hard thing to do. Left alone to nothing but his thoughts on a journey to a place that sounded as mystical as heaven, was it any wonder that he began to feel a small kindle of fear well up within him?

Like a worm slowly eating its way to the core of an apple, he too felt his heart slowly succumb to doubts, to worry, to—

"Ned?" He felt his arm being tucked. "Are you there?"

"Yeah, Ellie, I'm always here."

"You didn't have to come with me, you know? You could have stayed home."

He snorted, wondering why she would bring this up now that they were already on the train. "You wouldn't last a day without me."

"I so can survive on my own."

"Yeah? How'd you eat?"

"I'd find things. I don't need much."

"Who's gonna' take care of you when you're sick? When you're sad?"

"I'll have friends. They'll take care of me."

"So, you sayin' I should just hop on the next train back?" he joked.

There was a pause, and Ned felt her head lean against his shoulder, so he shifted so that she would be more comfortable, then hugged her closer, despite the heat. She smelt of sweat, dust, and smoke. The train shook, but she was firmly supported in his arm.

"No," Ellie whispered.

"Thought so."

* * *

As dawn approached, there was certain fury of commotion happening in the coach. Men and women crowded round the thin slits, looking out beyond. Ned was awoken when someone kicked him, and he all but jumped to his feet. He blinked several times, his mind still in state of grogginess and confusion, when someone kicked him again.

That got him seeing clear enough to realize that it was Ellie who had kicked him. "What you playin' at, Ellie? You want a clout?" he growled.

"Come on, Ned! Come!" she said, bouncing with excitement.

She pushed her way to the back of the coach where the door was.

Curiosity aroused, he followed her, and they went out the door. The open air immediately blew in their faces, but it was refreshing air from the sick and sweaty stench inside. The sun blinded his eyes for moment and when they finally recovered, Ned saw the countryside flying past him at breakneck, unparalleled speed. He hadn't realized how fast the train had been going until now and he couldn't help but feel scared.

Standing on a small platform between their carriage and the next carriage was the pregnant woman who sat next to them the night before. She beamed at the two of them. "Go on up you two, you're missin' it all." She indicated upwards.

Above their heads, perched on top the carriage, her significant other extended a hand down towards them. "Come on, the best spot's up 'ere."

Ned looked at Ellie, and saw her smile, which made his heart glad and he fought back his fears. He hoisted her up and the man pulled her up to the top. Then, he jumped and climbed over the ledge himself.

With an effort, he slowly brought himself to stand, worried that he'll lose his balance against the crazy speed of the train, but the man steadied him with a hand. And he looked and saw, and his eyes widened, and his jaws dropped, and his throat turned dry.

Because in the distance, further down along the tracks, with the rising sun as its backdrop, he saw Italica. That great place!

* * *

**Author's Notes: **How did you all find the excerpt to my undergrad dissertation in the prologue? Jk, my dissertation was on something infinitely more boring, not to mention that if I had actually written this I'm pretty sure that my professors would have crucified me for senseless philosophical ramblings (even though a lot of economists did start off as philosophers).

Anyway, over the past month a lot of story ideas swam in my head, but this one in particular appealed to me the most. It is definitely the most ambitious story I have ever undertaken, and I'm not sure if I am good enough a writer to do it justice, but I feel the challenge will help me grow in a lot of ways. With that being said, the approach I'm going to take this is rather free-flowing. Rather than plan all of this down to the minute details, I feel it is best that I take more of an exploration route in that I just toss my characters in situation and see how they respond. There is just so much world-building and themes and ideas and possibilities that I feel it is impossible for me to adhere to a rigid plan. Now, that may be a recipe in disaster of itself, but I am committed to updating this story as much as I can this year.

So, let me know of what you think, and if you want to, drop me a PM if you want to discuss anything you think that could be explored in this story. I definitely want to hear as many opinions as I can. Anyway, this author's note is long enough as it is, so I'll see you guys next time.


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